Death of a Capitalist

This is a story not commonly told:

There was an individual, of industrious sort, of shining example. It seemed from the moment of her birth she was working. The cold out of doors provided for her simple needs and she used every opportunity to move up in the world.

The struggle against her environment left no room for relationship. Men offered themselves, but she chased them away, there was better to be had, and there was no resting until she had it. There was no time for tears over bloodshed. Only the jockeying for a life of ease.

She began small, unnoticed by the large and dominating. She ran when she had to. She took her winnings when she could and looked for a place to settle down.

She grew and began to take out her competitors one by one. Each gave her a small thrill, with each triumph her confidence was boosted. Finally her black eyes glimmered upwards, and there she saw her home and her job at the peak of a towering building.

An old hag occupied it. All the riches of earth flocking to her. She was blind, and half crippled but a great deal more powerful than our girl.

She rested, studying the hag, eying her strengths. Watching her movements, her advantages, her weaknesses. There was fate: the goal, the prize, the last hurdle. Her heart pulsed with purpose.

The hag had the greater resources, but her movements were slow. The strength and speed of youth burned the hag, stinging her not one deathly blow, but many harmless advances and prods that could not be avoided sent the hag backing down and away. The hag knew she was meeting her end. She bowed out and disappeared.

The now ascended held her head high, and turned away the others that came to challenge her. She grew larger, larger than even the old hag but remained quick and bright. She could find a mate and raise a family now, the dream had been realized.




Time passed. Maybe a day or a year. No one could remember.




The light of the lamp shone upon the corner of the room.
"Honey" called a woman, "when did that get there?"
"Its been there for awhile, I've been ignoring it."
"And you didn't do anything about it?"
"It wasn't hurting anything. So I left it."
"I don't want it in the house. Would you please?"
The man of the house got a broom and deftly swept the young spider from her nest to the floor. She made a mad dash for cover. The man looked at it's bright colors and admired it before he reluctantly crushed it underfoot.